


Breaking Down

by crowdedangels



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Post-Series, USS George Hammond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 08:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8136418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowdedangels/pseuds/crowdedangels
Summary: He quietly excused himself from the Bridge of the Hammond, not wanting to draw attention to the hunch in his shoulders nor the slightest limp from his trick knee. He was getting too old for this.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Life got in the way, trying to write off the rust.

He was hurting, not that he would admit to it.

He quietly excused himself from the Bridge of the Hammond, not wanting to draw attention to the hunch in his shoulders nor the slightest limp from his trick knee. He was getting too old for this.

The door to his quarters whooshed shut and he straightened out his back with a groan, swinging his head from side-to-side while pressing his thumbs into the base of his spine. When he signed on for retirement with freelance SGC consultancy, he was thinking more along the lines of an occasional trip to the Mountain, Blue'd up and meeting and greeting some visiting alien dignitaries. A month-long trip on a ship to the ass-end of the galaxy wasn't quite what he had in mind.

He gingerly lowered himself onto the desk chair, toeing off his shoes and dragging his hands through his hair. The Hammond was comfortable enough but it wasn't his Lay-Z Boy or his deck with a crisp Minnesotan breeze whipping through his (shorts) hair.

“Sir?” Carter's voice asked through the door, a gentle knock preceding.

Jack made an attempt to stand before a twinge in his back had him land back on his butt. “S'open,” he called gravely, waving a hand.

The door slid open and Carter stood in the doorway. Her hair was up in a ponytail but with a few strands framing her face; a month of seeing her daily was the bright side to the trip. “General.”

“General,” he nodded, as SF's and God-knows-who passed by in the corridor.

She intertwined her fingers at her front,“You left the Bridge before the SGC made contact, sir. They have already heard from the Algonans and they are willing to set up a trade agreement.”

“That's swell, Carter.”

“General Landry is putting the necessary arrangements together as we speak. We couldn't have done it without you, sir.”

“Nice to know I've still -ah- got it,” he winced, his attempt at a whimsical salute negated by the pinch of his muscle.

Her face dropped into concern, “General?”

He gestured towards the corridor and she stepped further into his quarters, swiping her hand over the console to close the door.

“You okay?”

“Back's gone.”

She crossed to his bedside cabinet, pulling out the pain pills she knew he had stashed there.

He uttered his thanks as she went to fill a glass with water from his bathroom.

“You want me to get the medic?”

“No, no,” he crunched two pills between his teeth before gulping back some water. “No more prodding, no more poking.”

Her lips fell into a tight line.

“I'm fine, Sam.” He was, mostly. Thirty-odd years of front-line tours were taking their toll, but nothing he couldn't handle.

“You'd better be,” she laid her hands on his shoulders, lightly pressing her fingers into the tight muscles and gauging his reaction. “I have leave in two weeks.”

“And I have very specific plans for it,” he lowered his chin to his chest, bidding her permission for - and requesting - a massage. “ _Very_ specific plans.”

She slowly circled her thumbs around the base of his neck, encountering tight knots of sinew and garnering a strangled groan from him that vibrated beneath her fingers. “Plans you'd like to share?”

“Spoilers, Sam. Spoilers.”

She smirked, placing a kiss on the top of his head. “Looking forward to it.” 

“ _General Carter to the Bridge. General Carter, please report to the Bridge.”_

“That's my cue,” she whispered, wishing she could stay with him longer.

"Go, I'm fine.” He wanted her to stay. He wanted to lay down very straight and very slowly onto the bed, and have her curl up into his side with her head on his chest while they slept away the next week-or-so until they made it back to Earth.

She gave his shoulders one last squeeze before heading for the door, “I'll come by later.”

She'd become quite adept at sneaking into his quarters for the night, “Looking forward to it.”

“Call me, if you need anything.” She swiped her hand over the console, opening the door.

“ _Go.”_

The opening door had little acknowledgement from the passers-by, but she straightened her back and returned to General Carter mode, “Yes, sir. I'll pass along your regards to the SGC.” She may have looked all-business, but her eyes twinkled like _Sam_.

He managed the salute-finger-point with a smirk. He was getting too old for this.

 

 


End file.
